Death in Result
by Spike'sGirl65
Summary: In a world where Buffy is an average human, what would happen if she met Spike at the height of his Big Bad days? This is one possiblity.


As Spike stalked out of the building, he let the demon take control: it was time to feed. He walked down the street and into the club, every inch the predator. White-blond hair and cheek bones the angels envied drew all attention to him. He was sex on legs and he damn well knew it. He felt the beat of the music against his skin – sultry, sexy – and beneath it, something more compelling: the hard, quick beating on dozens of hearts; the pumping of blood through veins. Every person in the club watched him walk to the bar and he knew one of them wouldn't make it through the night.

He held up two fingers to the bartender and a double scotch was before him almost instantly. Spike tossed it back and turned to survey the room. Who would it be tonight? The perky blonde cheerleader to his left? Nah, she was half way across the bloody room and already her jabbering was getting on his nerves. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his black leather duster. Hmm, Goth Boy in the corner looked promising, but he was brooding and there was nothing in the world Spike hated more than brooding. Maybe the chick with the blue hair would—no…her. It had to be her.

She was sitting at a table with a couple who seemed oblivious to her presence. Long blonde hair fell in waves around her face. She wore an understated black dress that did nothing to hide a killer body, but made no attempt to flaunt it. She was beautiful but he never should have looked at her twice. Spike usually went for women who called attention to themselves, women who were outgoing, or slutty, or drunk. They were always hot and in some other way begging for attention. This girl was none of the above. She sat quietly, swirling her straw in her drink and Spike couldn't take his eyes off her. He had to have her.

Buffy was bored. E very time she went out with Willow and Oz, they got so wrapped up in each other they forgot she was even there; yet she continued to accept their invitations. She felt someone staring at her and glanced up from her drink, only to find the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, looking right at her. The man was liquid sex. Then he smirked at her with a wink and she felt her knees go weak, her fully seated knees. Was that even possible? He started towards her and Buffy decided it most certainly was.

Spike stopped beside her table and, without a word, took her hand and led her to the dance floor. He held her close to his body as the slow, driving rhythm of the music flowed around them. Their bodies moved together with the ease of having known each other for centuries, only they'd never laid eyes on each other before tonight. Spike held her close and breathed her in; he listened as her heart beat and her blood pumped and he had the fleeting thought that she belonged to him. It was crazy and ridiculous but he felt that she was his and wanted to keep her with him always.

He took her hand in his and led her out of the club until she stopped him in the alley. Looking into his face, she stepped up close and kissed him slow and deep. Electricity shot up his spine and he pulled her hard against his chest. He sensed her responses before they came; knew exactly what she would taste like before she kissed him; and deep inside, both the man and the demon knew she belonged to them. At that moment, Spike could have sworn he felt his heart beating in time with hers. This was, of course, impossible. He was long dead: no heart of his would be beating. Nevertheless, he felt suddenly different, almost…alive.

With a growl, he ended the kiss. His eyes never left hers as he let his demon face come to the fore. She never even flinched, just looked him dead in the eye. Spike bared his teeth and snarled as he dove for her neck, sinking his fangs deep into her throat and losing himself in the taste of her. His mind was blank of all thought but one: "Mine!" as her blood ran down his throat. Minutes—or possibly days—later, he pulled away from her and listened as her heart beat and her blood pumped. He leaned his forehead against hers and listened as her heart stopped and her blood dripped. Spike realized she'd never struggled. Her glassy eyes stared back at him and he was certain she was his. She belonged to him, but she'd dared to make William the Bloody feel human emotion and suffered death in result. Spike turned and walked away with an odd pressure behind his eyes and a pain in his unbeating heart.


End file.
